When Your Dreams Are Crushed Sub Arbore
by OodlesWhatWhere
Summary: -An Ecce Romani fanfic- As they plan to prank Cornelia and Flavia, Sextus comes to term with his feelings towards Marcus. And it seems some others might have feelings to explain as well...
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I would it imagine it clear that I did not write Ecce Romani, nor do I own it. I would love to, but alas, I was unaware there was a market for Latin textbooks at the time of its publication, as I was not yet born._

_(Also do people realise this is a joke I worry that they don't.)_

"_tam laete cantabant aves ut natura ipsa guadere viederetur."_ - Ecce Romani 4, Exercise 50a, Question 1: So happily singing were the birds that nature itself seemed to rejoice.

IT WAS A WARM DAY IN CAMPANIA. Sextus, wearing a plain tunic and some old sandals, was lying on his bed, staring at the white plaster ceiling above him. His mind was in turmoil; troubled thoughts had been flitting around it for days.

He started suddenly as the door of his bedroom swung open, and he sat up abruptly. He was surprised to see Marcus standing there, and not his paedogogus, Eucleides. Sextus had thought that Marcus had been in the study, talking with his father. But here he was, his dark hair slightly tussled, wearing a faded blue tunic and a heavy brown belt, and also a mischievous look on his face.

Sextus felt his heartbeat begin to quicken.

"Sextus, are you busy at the moment?" Marcus asked, stepping into the room, and closing the door behind him.

"No," Sextus replied quickly. Was he being too obvious? "I mean, I haven't got anything to do. Why?"

Marcus grinned. "I've got an idea, and I need my partner in crime to help. Are you up for it?"

Sextus had stood up before Marcus had even finished the sentence. "Of course. What's the plan?"

Marcus lowered his voice conspiratorially, and took a step towards Sextus. He was so close that Sextus could smell the mastic on his breath.

"I overheard Cornelia telling one of the slaves that she was going to go and see Flavia, and that they were going to that favourite oak tree of theirs. I thought we could hide in it before they got there, and scare them."

"You don't think we'll get in trouble, do you?" Sextus asked, slightly anxious. "The last time I tried that trick I got a beating."

"You're not _scared, _are you?" Marcus asked scathingly.

"Of course not!" Sextus replied, trying to muster up some indignation. He didn't want to appear weak in front of Marcus. "Come on, let's go then."

Marcus grinned widely again and clapped Sextus on the shoulder. Sextus could feel his skin tingle at the contact, even through the material of his tunic.

"This is going to be brilliant."

THEY WALKED FROM THE VILLA TO the oak tree in near silence. But it was not an awkward silence; Sextus and Marcus had been friends for too long for it to be awkward.

They had left the villa easily, saying that they were going to go and sit by the stream (though not swim in it of course- Sextus had suffered enough humiliation on that front). Eucleides had merely told them to come back whenever Davus ordered them in; the boys agreed readily and set off. They tried not to appear too eager: they didn't want suspicions to arise before they could execute their plan.

They passed a few slaves on their way: a couple entering the villa and another in one of the fields they took a shortcut through, but the two boys ignored them. It would have been more out of the ordinary to acknowledge some common labourers than it was to pretend they hadn't seen them.

The only words they spoke to each other were to decide which way to go, and a brief word of warning from Marcus to mind a large root that he nearly tripped over.

At last, Marcus and Sextus arrived at the oak tree, Cornelia and Flavia's favourite haunt. They spent many a day during the long summer months sitting beneath that very tree, singing and laughing and running around the surrounding fields. Marcus and Sextus usually steered clear of it, as they tended to find the girls very annoying. Cornelia and Sextus particularly loathed each other.

Marcus climbed up first, quickly scampering up the trunk and swinging himself on to one of the lower hanging branches. Sextus watched the contractions of his well-toned muscles before the sight of his tanned arms disappeared into the tree canopy. Sextus followed his friend, taking the same route. Marcus hadn't chosen the lowest hanging branch, so that it wasn't obvious that they were in the tree. Instead he had chosen a slightly higher one, and as the boys sat side by side, surrounded by the sweet-smelling leaves and the gentle rustling sounds of nature, their feet nearly brushed the branch below. They had an excellent view of where they knew Cornelia and Flavia would sit: the girls were always predictable in that respect.

"How long do you think they'll be?" Sextus asked Marcus quietly. He could hear the birds singing sweetly nearby; nature itself seemed to be rejoicing.

"Not long," Marcus replied in an undertone. "I don't expect we'll be kept waiting for more than ten minutes." He scratched his nose absently, and leaned over vaguely to look at the grass below. It gave Sextus an excellent opportunity to study his handsome profile. "Though when they do arrive," he continued quietly, "we should probably give them a few minutes to settle down, get comfortable… then we can really scare them."

Sextus nodded in agreement. Marcus's jaw line, so sharp and so very Roman, looked exquisite against the backdrop of the leaves of the oak tree, and the dappled sunlight threw a beautiful pattern of pale sunbeams on to his smooth flesh, now a healthy brown, acquired from the summer in Baiae. Sextus shook his head a little, as if he was trying to clear water from his ears. He needed to concentrate.

"It that them coming?" Marcus hissed excitedly. He leaned out again, but nearly slipped, grabbing Sextus' arm for balance. Marcus pulled back, and let out a shaky laugh. "Woah, that was close. And a false alarm as well!" He laughed once more, and withdrew his hand from Sextus' arm.

And once more, Sextus felt a burning beneath the very surface of his flesh. It was almost as if he had tasted the sting of the cane again. But one hundred times worse.

Sextus readjusted his position on the branch, trying to get more comfortable. He needed to stop looking at Marcus as they waited in the tree. He needed to stop thinking about Marcus at all.

IT HAD ONLY BEEN FIVE MINUTES of sitting in the tree, but it seemed to Sextus that it was dragging on for a lifetime. He was hyperaware of Marcus sitting beside him on the branch, how their hands, which were clutching at the rough bark, were very nearly touching. How Marcus' tunic had ridden up, and Marcus could see a considerable patch of his thigh. How, from the corner oh his eye, he could still see his friend's marvellous profile.

_Friend. _That was what Sextus needed to remember. Marcus was only that: his friend. His best friend, certainly, almost a brother. And that was all it was going to be.

They had been friends for a long time, what with the similar nature of their fathers' relationship. Sextus' own father was serving in Asia Minor at that moment. Sextus hadn't seen him in three years- his father hadn't even been able to return for the funeral of his mother, who had died the previous year in Pompeii.

It had been lucky, really, that Sextus had been visiting his cousins at the time of the eruption, with his old tutor. His mother had remained in Pompeii, settling some business accounts (or something similar).

Marcus had helped him so much over the past year, helping him to reconcile his grief and begin to move on from the death of his mother. He had been a truly wonderful friend. They had stayed up, many a night, simple talking, and not always about Sextus and his problems. Sometimes they simple chatted- until Eucleides heard them, anyway, and demanded their silence. They always got extra work the next day, but Marcus never blamed Sextus.

Sextus looked at Marcus. Marcus, his best friend. Marcus, the boy senior to him by two years, who was like a brother. Marcus, the boy that Sextus was hopelessly in love with.

This sudden realisation, this final and sudden acceptance, hit Sextus hard. He loved Marcus- of course he did. Now that he considered it, Sextus realised that he had loved Marcus for a long time. He had just always been too scared to admit it to himself. But now he let the feeling, the passion, flow into his heart, his blood, his entire being. He felt full, he felt happy, now that he knew what he wanted. He turned to Marcus, his heart beating fast. He opened his mouth.

"Sextus, I think they're coming!" Marcus turned to him with a gleeful look. Sextus tried to return the smile, and knowing that he was failing, instead looked down to the base of the oak tree. He gripped the branch so hard his knuckles turned white.

Cornelia and Flavia were indeed making their way over to the oak tree. They were laughing, and sat down comfortably against the tree trunk.

"Your mother didn't _really _say that, did she?" Cornelia was asking breathlessly, clutching at her sides.

Flavia, too, was gasping for breath. "She did! Honestly, I heard her myself!" The girls collapsed into a fresh bout of giggles.

Sextus turned his head to look at Marcus, ready to roll his eyes. But Marcus had not moved his head: he was still looking down at the girls, and there was a faint smile on his lips. And not the mischievous smile that Sextus knew so well- it was a different kind of smile. But what kind?

SEXTUS DIDN'T LIKE THE LOOK OF that smile. It was the sort of smile that should have been directed at him. Not someone else. Sextus opened his mouth to make his confession once again.

"Sextus, can I ask you something?" Marcus asked him quietly, dragging his eyes from the scene below. The girls were still giggling breathlessly.

"Of course…"

"Do you like Flavia?"

The question hung between them. Marcus was looking at his friend seriously, intently. Sextus' mouth dropped open slightly. "What do you mean?"

Marcus made a sort of frustrated sound. "I mean, what do you think of her?"

"I… I don't know. She's just a girl. Like Cornelia. I think they're both annoying." Sextus didn't like where this was going; his palms were starting to get sweaty as they clutched the rough bark.

Marcus frowned. "But what about when we're all getting along, when we play games together?"

Sextus shrugged, and frowned back at him. "She's all right then, I suppose. She's nice."

Marcus sighed and looked back down. "Yes, she is. She's _really _nice."

Sextus could feel something burning in his chest.

"Sextus, I think… I think I _like _Flavia. I really, really like her." He looked at Sextus desperately.

Now Sextus' jaw dropped open properly. "You _like _her? She's thirteen! And a girl!"

"You're thirteen," Marcus pointed out, "and I get on well enough with you. And of course I'd like a girl- I'm fifteen years old, Sextus."

"Yes, but…" Sextus couldn't believe this was happening. "_Flavia? _Your sister's best friend? Who lives on the neighbouring farm?"

"Her father is of the equestrian class," Marcus said defensively. He looked down at the girls, who were now chatting away. "And look at her… she's beautiful…"

Sextus could feel something ripping in his chest. His stomach began to feel heavy and sore. This couldn't be happening; Marcus couldn't be in love with Flavia. "But, but… she's _Flavia!_" he repeated, aghast.

"Exactly," Marcus said firmly and quietly. "Exactly."

Sextus continued to stare at him in shock. No longer was this an opportunity to study his face and gaze at his jaw line. Now Sextus was staring at his friend in complete shock. The very minute he had come to terms with his own feelings, and Marcus had decided to confess his own. "This can't be happening," Sextus thought numbly to himself.

"Why are you telling me this?" Sextus asked him at last.

Again Marcus tore his eyes (his beautiful, beautiful eyes) from the sight below him. "Because you're my best friend, Sextus. I need to ask you for advice."

"For advice?" Sextus repeated. "What do I know?"

Marcus shrugged. "I just don't know what to do. Do I go and find her, and tell her. Do I wait until we're alone, try and find out what she feels?"

"I think you should forget all about it," Sextus told him heatedly. "She's the daughter of a just-barely-gentleman, she's your sister's best friend, she's _Flavia. _Nothing good is going to come of this, Marcus."

Marcus looked hurt. "How can you say that? I love her."

Sextus shook his head angrily. "No you don't. You think you do, because you don't know anyone else. But you don't love her. You don't." His voice almost broke on the last word.

Now Marcus looked angry. "How do you know? How would you know? You don't like anyone, you never have. You don't understand how I'm feeling." He leaned over, dangerously far, to stare adoringly at his quarry. "I look at her and I feel… I feel like…"

"Like you're floating. Like you never thought you could be that happy," Sextus offered him flatly.

"Yes, like that," Marcus confirmed, surprised. "How-"

"I think I read some Catullus about it," Sextus said hastily, blushing. "I mean, Eucleides left some lying around of something."

"Right…" Marcus said knowingly, distressingly smug. "Of course."

Sextus could feel anger boiling up inside him. "It's been long enough now. Let's do it. Just jump down?" He adjusted his position on the branch. Maybe he could accidentally fall on Flavia?

"No!" Marcus almost shouted. "No, let's not. I don't want to-"

"But that was the only reason we came out," Sextus said angrily. "To scare them."

"I've changed my mind. What if it makes Flavia think-"

"Forget about her!" Sextus hissed. "I came out to scare her- to scare them. Don't be such a craven."

"I'm no craven," Marcus snarled indignantly.

"Well you're acting like one," Sextus sneered. He was going to hurt Marcus. He was going to hurt Marcus like Marcus had hurt him.

"I'm not! I just don't want to be so childish!"

Sextus didn't reply. He merely rolled his eyes, and slipped off the branch so that he was standing lightly on the one beneath it, still gripping the bark tightly with his sweaty hands.

"What are you doing?"

"AAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" Sextus leapt down in front of Cornelia and Flavia with a great yell. The two girls screamed shrilly and jumped up in fright as Sextus rolled over from the impact of the fall.

"Sextus!" Cornelia shrieked, seeing the boy, now laughing hopelessly on the ground in front of her. "Why are you so annoying?"

Sextus was gasping with laughter, and weakly raised a shaky arm, pointing to the tree above them. Flavia and Cornelia swivelled their heads and saw an ashen-faced Marcus in the branches.

"Marcus!" Flavia exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

"No, no-" Marcus began trying to climb down. "It wasn't like th-"

"We hate both of you!" Cornelia declared. "Don't we?"

"Definitely," Flavia affirmed. "Let's go and tell your mother- this is one time too many."

"No, Flavia, wait!" Marcus had reached the bottom of the tree, but the girls had already flounced off, arm in arm, noses indignantly in the air.

He glared down at Sextus, who had now stopped laughing, and was watching the proceedings with a self-satisfied air. He was leaning back on his elbows, his legs spread out in front of him.

"I told you not to do it!" Marcus shouted at Sextus, and he kicked him in the side. Now the contact merely stung from the pain; he felt nothing else; he was dead inside. "Now you've ruined everything! Flavia hates me, and we're going to get in trouble!"

"I thought you weren't a craven?" Sextus taunted him.

All he got for his trouble was another kick in the side, and then Marcus too had left, running after the girls, his faded blue tunic rippling slightly in the light summer breeze. Sextus sat there beneath the oak tree for a long time, leaning back and staring into nothing. His dreams, his hopes, his love, had been crushed because of the girl who had sat beneath this oak tree.

When he returned to the villa, he checked his reflection in the smooth surface of a water barrel. Luckily, his eyes were not red.

"_odi et amo. quare id faciam, fortasse requiris? nescio, sed fieri sentio, et excrucior."_ – Catullus: I love and I hate. Why do I do this, perhaps you ask? I do not know, but I feel it happening, and it tortures me.


	2. Chapter 2

"_da mi basia mille, deinde centum, dein mille altera, dein secunda centum, deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum; dein, cum milia multa fecerimus, conturbabimus illa, ne sciamus, aut ne quis malus invidere posit cum tantum sciat esse basiorum."_ –Catullus V: Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred. Then, another thousand, and a second hundred. Then, yet another thousand, and a hundred. Then, when we have counted up many thousands, Let us shake the abacus, so that no one may know the number, And become jealous when they see How many kisses we have shared.

* * *

MARCUS FROWNED AT THE TEXT in front of him. The Greek letters wormed their way across the page, and he wasn't taking any of them in. He was supposedly reading about the Cyclops, but his thoughts were elsewhere today. He was vaguely aware of a tapping sound on the hard wood of the table.

"Marcus!" this exclamation from Eucleides was accompanied by a sharp smack around the head. Marcus' frown deepened as he rubbed his head ruefully and looked up at his tutor, who was scowling at him. Marcus could tell that Sextus was trying not to laugh next to him. "I've been trying to get your attention for too long. Where's your head, boy?"

Marcus only just managed to stop himself shrugging. "I'm sorry. I lost focus for a moment."

Eucleides snorted. "More than a moment. Have you finished reading the passage, at least?"

"I have," Marcus lied.

Eucleides smiled cruelly. "So what's the name of the Cyclops?"

"Err…"

His tutor's grin became all the more vicious. "Lines I think, don't you, young master?"

Marcus only nodded glumly. Sextus let out a snort next to him which he hastily turned into a coughing fit. Marcus stabbed him lightly in the thigh with the tip of his stylus.

When he was finally allowed up some time later (Marcus had lost track as the minutes dragged by) he left the room, rolling his shoulders and flexing his aching fingers. Lines had always been a favourite punishment of Eucleides, and the most hated of Marcus. Sextus had already left; Marcus went in search of his younger friend, thinking vaguely of playing a game in the courtyard.

The pair had recently fallen out, Sextus having jumped down to Cornelia and Flavia and frightening them, against Marcus' wishes, and so also creating a rift between Marcus and Flavia herself. Thinking of the Campanian girl Marcus sighed morosely to himself, and stepped out into the courtyard.

The sun was reflecting on the still water of the pond at the centre of the garden, and a few slaves were milling slowly about. Marcus shielded his eyes against the fierce rays of the sun and scanned the courtyard, searching for his friend. Then he heard it.

A girl's laugh. But not just any girl's laugh- no, it was the laugh of the girl who was so often crossing Marcus' mind these days. He cocked his ear to the side, and then saw his sister chuckling behind a pillar. He began to hurry towards them, but checked his step as he came level with the pond: he didn't want to seem too eager.

"Hello, girls," he greeted his sister and her best friend casually, stepping into the shade. They were sitting on a stone bench against the wall, a bowl of figs between them.

"Oh, hello, Marcus," Cornelia replied. Flavia only smiled at him; she had a mouthful of figs and didn't want to appear unladylike. Marcus felt a swooping sensation in his stomach. They had only just become friends again, after Marcus had hit Sextus for her. (Sextus had been deliberately irritating the two girls- even more than usual- and as an act of solidarity Marcus had smacked him around the head, not unlike Eucleides had done to Marcus not that long ago.)

"Have you seen Sextus anywhere?" Marcus continued in that same casual tone.

"No, sorry," Cornelia said with a shrug and a look of disdain.

"Weren't you just having your lessons with him?" Flavia asked.

"Yes, but I got lines so had to stay behind for longer; Sextus must have just wandered off somewhere."

Flavia smiled up at him. "What did you get lines for?"

"Thinking about you," Marcus thought to himself, looking into her wonderfully green eyes. "Just got a bit distracted," Marcus told her bracingly. "Forgot to read the passage and Eucleides came down on me like the ba-"

"Marcus, have you seen Sextus?" Eucleides spoke suddenly and sharply from behind him. Marcus spun around, the insult dying on his lips.

"Sextus? No, I was just looking for him myself," Marcus said guiltily. He had no doubt that Eucleides had guessed what Marcus had been about to say. "Why?"

"Because I need to talk to him," Eucleides replied shortly. "If you see him, send him my way. I forgot to mention something important in the lesson."

"I will…" Marcus trailed off as his tutor walked away. He turned back to the two girls (most importantly, he turned back to Flavia). They had stood up. "Where are you going?" he asked quickly.

"To the oak tree," Flavia told him happily.

"So if you or Sextus wants to jump on us you'd better run quickly," Cornelia joked scathingly.

Marcus stuck his tongue out at his younger sister. He watched them walk away with a pang in his chest. It was always sad watching Flavia walk away.

* * *

IT WAS RAINING HARD OUTSIDE. Marcus was stretched out on a couch, supposedly reading a book, but actually flicking his eyes up as often as possible to look at Flavia. She and Cornelia were sitting side by side and doing some sort of needlework; Marcus never had been and never would be interested in the intricacies of the needle and thread. Sextus was sitting in the corner of the room, attempting to pen a letter to his father, who was still serving in Asia Minor. Sextus kept frowning and crossing out lines viciously, so ink had splattered on to his arm. He had also at one point, when a particularly deep frown had crossed his face, tapped his nose with the nib of his pen in distraction. None of them had bothered to tell him he now had an ink-stained face.

The room was filled with gentle sounds: rain pattering not far from the room in the courtyard; Sextus' quill scratching on the rough papyrus; Cornelia and Flavia softly conversing as they sewed; the very occasional turning of a page by Marcus.

"Cornelia." Everyone looked up to see the source of the sharp voice: Aurelia, Marcus and Cornelia's mother, was standing in the doorway, a slightly harassed look on her face.

"Yes, mother?" Cornelia asked, a bit timidly.

"I need to talk to you, would you please come with me for a moment?" Aurelia smiled kindly at her daughter, and Cornelia stood up, plainly relieved. As she put her needlework back on the couch Aurelia looked around at the other of inhabitants of the room, and her face hardened as her eyes came to the boy sitting in the corner.

"Sextus, whatever have you put on your nose?"

Sextus, looking confused, immediately put his left hand up to his nose; when it came away covered in ink he looked accusingly at Marcus. "You could have told me I had ink of my face."

"I hadn't noticed it was there," Marcus said innocently. The girls laughed.

"Never mind that now," Aurelia said impatiently, "but you must go and clean it off now. And let me see your letter as well, Sextus." Lumbering over to her, Sextus handed Aurelia his almost finished letter. She glanced it at it and shook his head. "Look at this penmanship! And all the ink splatters and crossing-outs! You're going to have to rewrite this, Sextus!"

Sextus' protests died on his lips at the look Aurelia gave him. He only muttered his assent, and sauntered from the room. Aurelia and Cornelia were close to follow.

Marcus and Flavia were left in the room. Together, and alone at last. Marcus felt his heartbeat quicken.

* * *

AT FIRST, IT WAS A BIT AWKWARD. They glanced at each other, smiled a bit uncomfortably, and then turned back to their pursuits. Marcus stared blankly at the pages in front of him; was he being too obvious in his not-reading? Could she see clearly that his eyes weren't moving across the page? But she wasn't doing anything, either. Marcus, hyperaware of being alone in a room with Flavia –_Flavia!_-could tell that her hands weren't moving in the motion of stitching. He couldn't hear the needle going through the material, anyway. A small blossom of hope bloomed up inside him.

Steeling himself (and trying not to take an obvious deep breath) Marcus looked up from his book. Flavia was sitting on the couch, her hands motionless in her lap.

"Hello." Marcus kicked himself mentally. What a stupid thing to say. But then he felt relief: Flavia smiled at him.

"Hello."

He smiled back tentatively, and they both blushed and looked away from each other again.

"What are you reading?" Flavia asked after a few moments of almost unbearable silence.

"Oh, just some-" Marcus stopped. What had he been reading? He hadn't taken a single word in. "Er, Ovid."

"You don't sound very sure," Flavia said teasingly.

"I wasn't sure about the title," he said defensively, tapping the spine of the book.

"But you didn't tell me the title."

"Details, details," he dismissed her point casually. They were joking together. At least he thought they were joking together. That was good, wasn't it? What if she was making fun of him? What is she actually thought he'd forgotten to read the title of the book and was a complete idiot? What if-

"Is it any good? My brother had to read some Ovid a while ago, and he never stopped complaining about it." Flavia took her sewing things off her lap and placed them beside her on the couch, next to Cornelia's. Marcus thought this was a good sign, but he wasn't entirely sure why. He mimicked her, and closed his book.

"It's not bad… I haven't, er, read that much of it." He smiled at her. "I'll get back to you on that."

"Please do," she replied, smiling back.

"I definitely will."

The pair was left in silence, grinning at each other. Marcus realised that, having put their other pastimes beside them, picking them up again would be quite rude, and probably indicate that he was bored of talking to her. He needed to keep the conversation going.

"So-"

"What are-"

"You go first," Flavia insisted desperately.

"No, really, you," Marcus insisted even more desperately.

"No, honestly, you go."

"But you started first, it's fairer."

"I started last time."

"No you didn't," Marcus said with a frown.

"Er, yes, I think I did," Flavia stated firmly.

"No, I started the conversation," Marcus disagreed, confused.

"I don't you think you did."

"I really did. I said 'Hello', remember?"

Now Flavia frowned. "Doesn't count. After you, please, Marcus."

"But really, Flavia, it's only polite to let _you _go first." He grinned slyly at her. "In fact, I shan't take no for an answer: I won't say anything until you do."

Flavia rolled her eyes at these underhand tactics. "Well, we'll be left in silence for quite a while then."

"Really?"

"Really," Flavia avowed.

"Why?"

"Because _I _won't talk until you do."

"You're already talking," Marcus pointed out.

"Yes, well- I. Oh, shut up."

They grinned at each other again. Marcus was rather enjoying himself. They were having quite the conversation, him and Flavia. Joking and arguing with each other. Wait, was arguing a good thing? If they argued too much she'd never want to talk to him. Then he'd never get the chance to-

"So do you think the others will be back soon?"

Marcus felt himself physically deflate: his shoulders drooped, his hands collapsed on to his knees, his head dropped slightly. She was already bored of him, she wanted to be able to talk to Flavia again.

"Not because I'm not having fun!" Flavia cried hastily. "Not that. I was just thinking-"

"No, it's fine, I'm sure Cornelia won't be too long," Marcus said glumly.

"I wasn't saying- I thought we-"

"Really, I don't mind, if you're-"

"Marcus!" She interrupted him sharply, exasperated. "I'm asking," she began again, slowly, "because I thought, if they're going to take much longer, then perhaps we could do something. How long do you think Sextus will be?"

Marcus swallowed noisily. "I don't know, a while, mother has to check his letter and he'll have to rewrite it probably." He moved on quickly from the boring topic of his best friend: "What do you want to do?" he asked her eagerly, leaning forwards.

She went a little pink and shrugged. "Maybe we could, er…" Flavia trailed off.

"Could what?" Marcus asked again. This couldn't be happening.

"We could, go outside or something?" Flavia suggested quietly, as if she secretly hoped he wouldn't hear.

"To go on a walk?" Marcus offered excitedly.

She looked relieved that he wasn't opposed to the idea. "Yes, that sounds like a good idea."

Marcus jumped to his feet. "Let's go then."

Smiling to herself, Flavia stood up as well. They stood there, facing each other, and grinning broadly.

Of course, Cornelia then had to walk in.

* * *

"MOTHER CAN GET WOUND UP about the mos-" Cornelia stopped abruptly and looked at her brother and best friend, who were now blushing furiously. "What were you two doing?"

Marcus opened and closed his mouth several times but without success. Flavia looked at the strangely pained expression on his face and turned to address Cornelia. "We were just about to go on a walk, actually."

"Really?" Cornelia said, surprised.

"Yes," Flavia replied firmly. Marcus had finally closed his mouth, and was now nodding. He was being such an idiot. He hadn't been caught doing anything. Flavia was clearly adamant that they still go on a walk. Everything was fine except for the fact that Cornelia had ruined everything and he was making a huge fool out of himself. Everything was fine.

"Where were you going?" Cornelia asked, now looking between Flavia and Marcus. They were standing quite close, really.

"Erm…" Flavia looked to Marcus. "Where _are _we going exactly, Marcus?"

Marcus frowned. How could she be giving him a responsibility like this when he had just clearly demonstrated his lack of ability when it came to talking about things like a normal human being? "Wherever you want to go."

Flavia rolled her eyes. "Wherever is where we're going."

A sly look was beginning to cross Cornelia's face. Marcus could see the beginnings of something in her eyes, something he recognised well in his younger sister: spite. She wouldn't..?

"You're going for a walk… in the rain?"

Marcus leaned forward to look out of the door, into the courtyard beyond. "It's stopped raining, actually, Cornelia."

Cornelia and Flavia mimicked Marcus, looking outside. Flavia smiled to herself, but Cornelia narrowed her eyes. "It will still be wet, though, the grass and the paths. You'll get awfully muddy."

"It will be fine," Marcus said bracingly, waving his hand about vaguely. "The rain wasn't _that _heavy."

"It was quite heavy."

"But not _that _heavy." Marcus and Cornelia glared at each other. And then a sweet, innocent looking expression began to make its way across Cornelia's face. Marcus felt his stomach sinking.

"Well, if you're being so insistent that it's fine to walk, would you mind me coming along too?" she asked sweetly, tilting her head slightly.

Out of the corner of his eye Marcus could see Flavia's expression droop slightly. Triumph stormed through him. "No!" he blurted it out quickly, and a lot more loudly than he had intended. He flushed at the somewhat shocked expressions on Cornelia and Flavia's faces.

"I mean…" What did he mean? Quickly, excuses excuses excuses, "I mean someone has to stay behind for Sextus," Marcus spluttered desperately.

Cornelia's jaw dropped almost disbelievingly. "_What?_"

Flavia was also looking at him incredulously.

"I mean, well, Sextus has gone out, we can't just leave, he'll wonder where we've got to, it wouldn't be nice…"

Cornelia looked all the more disbelieving. Clearly the idea of ensuring that she was nice to Sextus was not a thought that had ever crossed her mind. Marcus was not surprised at this, considering the antagonistic nature of their relationship, but he blundered through.

"Someone has to stay behind to tell him where we've gone, you can catch up later." Marcus, of course, would never allow them to catch up later.

"Then why can't you be the one to stay behind?" Cornelia demanded.

"Well, we already said we were going first," Flavia offered quickly, "you were the one who joined the party late. It's fairer if you stay behind."

Marcus smiled patronisingly at his little sister, who was scowling at the pair of them. Marcus was sure she didn't want to annoy Flavia, but there were few limits to what Cornelia would do to irritate her brother, especially considering the recent jumping-from-tree incident with Sextus.

"Shall we then?" he said to Flavia, gesturing with his arm for her to go first. She smiled at him, and began to leave the room. Marcus followed close on her heels.

"You still haven't said where you're going!" Cornelia called after the pair.

Both of them pretended they hadn't heard her.


End file.
